


Fathers' Day

by mellyb6



Series: And Then There Were Four [12]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Father's Day, Handcuffs, In the Shower, M/M, Mati, Porn With Plot, also sex, and look, and porn a reward, and yet you love him immensely, but not in the first chapter, but you have to make him pay for embarassing you, coz there's a child in the first chapter, patience is a virtue guys, when your bff (boyfriend forever) doesn't like the same football team as you do, yep there's some kind of plot in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-11 18:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10471092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellyb6/pseuds/mellyb6
Summary: Aramis isn't the only receiving presents for Father's Day this year. Except Porthos does something his boyfriend doesn't quite like with his and he needs to find a way to be forgiven.





	1. Chapter 1

The door to the bedroom is locked. Aramis doesn't stop kissing Porthos when the doorknob rattles. His hand rubs his boyfriend's naked chest and Porthos' fingers still grip Aramis' hair to keep him close.

 

There there's a crashing sound on the other side of the door and Porthos does pull back, Aramis going after the sweet mouth.

 

“What was that?”

 

“No idea.”

 

“Don't you want to at least make sure he's okay?”

 

Aramis shakes his head at the question, curls falling on his eyes and he holds up a finger. Waiting for what inevitably happens next.

 

“ _Papá!”_

 

More rattling the doorknob and Mati even seems to knock on the door. Trying anything. Porthos can't help chuckling, his hand clutching the bare skin of Aramis' lower back. One more kiss, more whining from the boy and there's no point faking to be asleep.

 

“What is it, buddy?” Aramis calls out, his head falling on the fluffy pillow.

 

“ _I can't open the door!”_

 

“That's because it's locked.”

 

“ _Unlock it!”_

 

Porthos snorts at the child's insistance. He rubs his eyes, sits up with a loud groan. Bones crack and he rolls his shoulders, stretching his arms high above his head. He's already put on a tee-shirt and got up that Aramis still hasn't moved. Lying there in nothing but his underwear.

 

“ _Pap_ _á_ _!”_ Mati whines again and then swallows his next cry when the door opens suddenly and he's faced with Porthos. He cranes his head up. _“Porfos! It's Father's Day!”_

 

“What's all of this?” Porthos asks instead of replying to the warm smile. Whatever Mati was carrying to their bedroom is on the floor. A mess of wrapped stuff and envelopes. One he recognizes because he helped the boy with it but the rest, he has no idea where it's coming from.

 

“It's for you! And for Papá! Coz it's Father's Day!” Mati hugs Porthos' legs without waiting for an invitation, unware of how Porthos' knees buckle all of a sudden under the unexpected appreciation.

 

“Presents?” Aramis perks up, finally standing up. All dishevelled hair and cooling skin. He grabs the closest sweater, one that smells like Porthos and he can't help breahing in.

 

 _He_ replies to his son's enthusiastic greetings, excited almost as much as the boy because for all the years they've lived apart, it's the first Father's Day they're going to spend together. One that Mati will actually remember. There were those when he was one and two but a baby can't be expected to take much part in the preparation for special days.

 

Today is going to be _great_.

 

Aramis yawns, hugs Mati back before he picks him up and the boy wiggles to escape too many kisses.

 

“That's what you get for making us leave our bed.”

 

“But it's important! I've all this for you!”

 

Mati sounds so proud and excited and really, nobody should be this hyper at 8 in the morning unless it's Christmas Day. Porthos is still baffled by the obvious presents and he gazes at his surroundings, both at a loss of what to say and how to act. He's aware Mati meant to give him something but it was supposed to have been aborted at school due to a lack of craft supplies. He didn't mind. His heart beats a little faster now with lack of understanding and his stomach churns with possibilities he doesn't dare acknowledge completely. It's too early for anyone to expect him to remain in control of his emotions.

 

“Porfos, come on!” Mati urges, grabbing soft packagings, dropping them, clutching one in each hand because it's more efficient.

 

“You all right?” Aramis asks quietly, one hand on his boyfriend's arm. He can see it's not quite okay. Porthos is confused.

 

“But I thought....”

 

“He wanted to make it right. _I_ wanted to make it right. School policies don't rule our lives.”

 

There's a strong fierceness in Aramis' eyes. He may have talked with Mati's teacher and cleared up his son's attitude so that hopefully he won't lose his temper so violently in the future, Aramis couldn't condone not helping the boy who wanted to include Porthos on that special day. He doesn't question the attachment between the two of them, he's thankful for it and yet, knowing that Mati considers Porthos as another father figure makes Aramis want to cry. It's too good to be true.

 

Except it actually is and it's bound to be the best Father's Day _ever_.

 

As Aramis settles on the couch, cross-legged, warming his bare feet, he can sense Porthos trembling by his side. Not enough to alert the little boy who is merrily arranging whatever he has for them on the coffee table. Aramis sneaks one hand up the collar of his boyfriend's tee-shirt, caressing the skin and playing with the short hair.

 

“Don't you think we should eat breakfast first? I'm hungry. I'm sure those can wait until later?” Aramis teases the child.

 

“No! That's for you!”

 

He thrusts an envelope at his father and Aramis surrenders, laughing.

 

“Porfos helped. With the butterflies and the glitter,” Mati explains before his father has even taken a glimpse at the card. It's overflowing with stickers and drawings even though those are quite delicate. Mati's handwriting is wobbly to say the least but he's the one who wrote the big letters.

 

“We _do_ it Friday. After school. We went to the store and we bought all that!”

 

Glitter falls on Aramis' lap and his sweatpants look golden in places.

 

“I _writed_ that!”

 

“I can see you _wrote_ it, champion. Well done.”

 

Mati's smile, the small dimples, the unruly blond curls, they could brighten any day. Especially those cloudy like today.

 

“And Mamá gave me this! For you! Coz I'm too young to work and have money.”

 

“She did? When?”

 

Aramis grabs the wrapped gift on instinct, not needing to open it to recognize that it's one of Anne's infamous tee-shirts. He's always had tee-shirts for Father's Day.

 

“At the gym! Yesterday. You were trying to breathe again, Porfos said.”

 

Porthos laughs out loud, remembering Aramis' pathetic collapse in the lounge. Complaining that he was going to heave out a lung -or both- and that he never wanted to go on that treadmill again.

 

Aramis, on the other hand, scoffs.

 

“She's sneaky, your girlfriend,” Porthos remarks instead of making more fun of his boyfriend.

 

“Don't tell me about it.”

 

“Sorry about the frame,” Mati mumbles his apology one more time.

 

Aramis saw the damaged gift on Friday morning. To be honest, there's as much sparkly dust on his clothes now as there was on the photoframe. He prefers knowing that Porthos helped rather than the teacher. Besides, seeing that Mati deeply regrets what he did is enough for Aramis to know that his son will probably, most certainly, never do it again.

 

“It's fine, champion. Don't worry about it anymore. Look at what Mamá found instead. You can repay her in kisses.”

 

“You can, too. Coz you kiss her, too now.”

 

“I do.”

 

“I like that,” Mati decides, playing with the silver ribbon. “You're like all the moms and the dads on TV.”

 

“But better because we're real.”

 

“Yeah.....”

 

Aramis glances at Porthos, smiling because there's so much of his boyfriend in the way his son talks that Anne is bound to get annoyed by it at one point. As far as he's concerned, Aramis doesn't mind the relaxed tone one bit.

 

It's a tee-shirt which will end up being worn on runs or to sleep but Mati is satisfied to see it's appreciated. It would have been cooler if he had made something with his hands but there's the card so he supposes it qualifies as such. Aramis even takes off his sweater to try out the tee-shirt instead. The turquoise brings out the color in his eyes.

 

“Is that for me, too?” Aramis taunts, pointing at the rest of the gifts. The ones _he_ bought. Mati's eyes widen.

 

“No! It's for you, Porfos!” He hesitates for a second, going over what he wants to say. On TV, there aren't many characters who get to celebrate Father's Day with two dads. “Coz you're like my.....dad, you said. I could call you that.”

 

“Yeah, you can.”

 

“And it's Father's Day so it's.....for you, too. Even if you didn't make me.”

 

“You didn't have....” Porthos starts only he catches the slight shake of Aramis' head and he bites his tongue. “.....Thanks.”

 

“Open it! We bought it yesterday after swimming. And I need two snacks today!” he suddenly remembers. Since he had to give up his the day before to go shopping. Aramis tuts.

 

“You don't _need_ snacks, Mati. But we'll get some later, yes.”

 

“Aramis.....,” Porthos gasps, once again unable to process the wonders that this family are doing for him. His boyfriend is insane, he realizes, uncovering the undoubtedly expensice jersey.

 

“You like it? You can wear it when we play football in the park,” Aramis feigns to not register how disapproving yet amazed Porthos seems to be. Speechless.

 

He holds the clothes out at arm's length to assess it and he catches Mati's expectant stare when he puts it back down on his lap. The boy is shuffling on his feet, and Porthos chokes up on his answer.

 

“Yeah,” he manages to mumble, looking anywhere but at the others. He will _not_ cry.

 

“Mati chose it.” Aramis keeps on talking, rubbing Porthos' back, drawing closer. “Because _I_ didn't want to be the one choosing apparel from such a despicable football team.”

 

“Despicable yourself,” Porthos retorts, recognizing the attempt at lightening his heart. And his shock. They'll forever make his hear clench with surprising joy.

 

“I'm the one who has to watch all their games with you even though I think they're rubbish!”

 

“ _You_ dragged me to that Spanish bar to watch Barcelona the other day. We both suffer. I don't even know why we're together when our football preferences are so different.”

 

“No! Don't break up!” Mati shrills, immensely more serious than the adults were in their banter. Afraid a bit that he's picked the wrong gift and it'll ruin the day and all the others after.

 

“We're not, buddy. Porthos's just kidding.”

 

“I am, I swear.” He puts one hand on his heart, under close scrutiny. “I love it, Mati. Thanks so much.”

 

And worried eyes relax.

 

“You can repay Papá with kisses. Coz he bought it.”

 

Aramis' entire body jerks when he snorts, his son being too adorable for actual words. Using his previous arguments and not batting an eye that there are way too many people kissing in their equation. The laughter relieves Porthos as much as the playful football bickering. He's growing used to their awesomeness. He's growing used to the new way Mati refers to him. He's growing used to being someone people want to depend on.

 

“Put it on!” Mati insists, oblivious to what his every action and word trigger in the men.

 

The order is hastily obeyed and Aramis makes a show of being disgusted to have to sit next to his boyfriend. Wearing _that_. Anything to keep the tears at bay. He's aware he's made Porthos really emotional and he expected it. To be blessed with such a remarkable child having everyone's best interest at heart. And with such a sweet boyfriend who melts into goo whenever someone manages to crack his hard shell and reach all the way to his heart.

 

Mati is squirming in their hug once he's climbed on the couch between the men. Giggling. Porthos grips Aramis' arm, or his shoulder and once he finds a cheek to kiss, he does so. The corner of a mouth. Aramis' arm is tight around his shoulders, squeezing.

 

 

“You're going to make me cry, you and your insufferable kindness,” Porthos mutters after they've eaten breakfast. Finally. That Mati has lost interest and has gone to play with his toys. Wooden cubes clatter on the floor more often than not.

 

Aramis hugs his boyfriend from behind, warm hands on a warm belly. His lips land on the nape of Porthos' neck. A caress which makes Porthos shiver.

 

“That wasn't the point, sweetie.”

 

“I never had....”

 

“I know.”

 

“And you went overboard.”

 

“No,” Aramis says, resolute. “You deserve it. You really are a dad to him, Porthos. Watching you with him is like, a dream come true. Really. Sometimes I think back on how terrified I was to tell you the truth. About him. And then I see you these days and geez, man, you shot up so much higher than all my expectations. You deserve recognition.”

 

“I'm trying.” Porthos shrugs.

 

“Beautifully.”

 

Porthos' shoulders heave and his voice breaks a little. He sniffs. Because his boyfriend is a handsome idiot and these compliments are definitely too much. Aramis wasn't the only one terrified. Yet now, Father's Day also applies to Porthos. Crazy. Unbelievable.

 

“I love you, Porthos.”

 

Aramis kisses his neck one more time. Kisses away the few tears which fell from Porthos' eyelashes after he's turned around. A gentle mouth on his right cheek, then his left cheek. Then on his closed eyes and Porthos chuckles. Holds on tight to the hands clasped in his.

 

“I love you, too, you silly Spaniard.”

 

“Just don't wear this out in public with me.” Aramis makes another disgusted face and Porthos smirks. Squeezes their hands tighter.

 

“Or what?”

 

“Or......I'll be very upset.” There's only mischief in his eyes though. Porthos is liking that.

 

“And......?”

 

“I'd have to make you....pay,” Aramis whispers, lush lips on Porthos ear.

 

If he shivers this time, it's not because of peculiar feelings. It's because Aramis has a magical gift for turning any situation into promises of sex and he's doing it right now. An effective distraction.

 

“And....?”

 

“I don't know,” Aramis replies casually. Yet he lets go of one of Porthos' hands to allow his fingers to glide underneath the jersey. Tiny touches. “......you'd have to beg for me to forgive you for the embarassment....”

 

Aramis snatches his fingers away too fast, steps back, grins wickedly and swirls to refill his mug of coffee.

 

Porthos wears the jersey all day long when they go into town later.

 


	2. Chapter 2

There's been football in the park since Porthos has a new jersey he seems to like so much he's worn it all day so he had to try it out on the field. There's been cake and soft drinks in that snuggly coffee shop which offered a discount if you were there to celebrate Father's Day. So Mati wondered if they could have two since he came with two fathers. To which Aramis replied it was nice enough already to pay less and that his son would bankrupt any business he might want to manage as an adult if he starts being so generous. Then Mati declared that he wanted to be a professional juggler because one came at school and it looked _awesome_. With the colorful ribbons.

 

There's been an anxious search for socks which were lost in the boy's bedroom but that he needed to find before going back to his mother's. Found, for some unexplainable reason, amid Porthos'. Thank God the socks had kittens on them or they would never have spotted them.

 

There's been quick hello and goodbye with Anne, thanks for the tee-shirt, compliments on Porthos' jersey which really were to tease Aramis and finally it's quiet in the apartment.

 

Porthos planning work stuff for the week and Aramis taking a soothing shower.

 

It's been a fun day, tiring but no different from the rest of the time when Mati stays with them. Peace and relative silence once the child is gone though. As much time as Aramis wants to shower. To eat junk food sprawled in front of the TV. To do nothing. Sometimes to not even talk but Porthos is close by and that's more than enough.

 

There's music from Aramis' phone resting by the bathroom sink. Barely covering the noise of the water rushing down over his body. Hair soaking wet, hot drops of water on his back running down his thighs and he could stay there forever. Hands braced against the tiled wall, forehead resting on it. Eyes closed, breathing in the orchid scent of the shower gel and mouthing lyrics from time to time.

 

Perfect spot in the world.

 

Until Aramis hears the bathroom door open and he has to smile. He doesn't say a word, hears shuffling and then the glass door slides open and he doesn't even have to look up and turn around to feel crowded by Porthos. Radiating presence behind him. Making a large space shrink so that they're always bound to be flushed together.

 

“I take it you're not wearing that horrendous jersey anymore.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Thank God.”

 

Aramis' skin tingles as Porthos' hand grazes the nape of his neck. Squeezing. Porthos steps closer, drops one kiss on his boyfriend's shoulder and groans with appreciation at the warm water on his open face. In his hair. Gliding down his back.

 

“Although I'm a bit disappointed,” Porthos remarks and Aramis does raise his head then, looking behind his shoulder to face his boyfriend's smirk. There's vapor rising from the never ending flow of water.

 

“About?”

 

“You don't seem _that_ upset with me. I don't feel like I need to be forgiven.”

 

Porthos shrugs casually, grabs the shower gel and starts washing his arms, glancing at Aramis now facing him. Studying him. He'd almost forgotten about this.

 

“You caught me at a weak moment.” Aramis shakes his head, tries to scold his features. “I'm still very much angry. I mean, I had to hold your hand with _that_ on your back.”

 

“Are you now?”

 

“Definitely.”

 

“Nobody _made_ you hold my hand.”

 

Aramis scoffs. Lets Porthos' foamy hands travel up and down his wet arms nonetheless. He lets them wander over his chest and push until he's pressed to the wall and Porthos has stepped so close they're inches from touching yet they're not.

 

Porthos has been waiting a _whole_ week for the opportunity to have sex with his boyfriend without having to worry about being too loud and he's starving. A wet Aramis is so arousing.

 

“But I really want you tonight so let's not argue about _your_ questionable taste and let me make amends however I find best,” he decides.

 

It's a hushed whisper in Aramis' ear who is already shivering from anticipation. Porthos is right there, all of him, all for him tonight. No distraction, no obligation. Hours to themselves. His hands are gripping Aramis' hips, one swiftly turning off the water. The music is so loud now, echoing around them.

 

Aramis tilts his head at the open mouth travelling down his neck. The tongue licking. Porthos' thumbs brush his hips. His lower stomach. The top of his thighs. As close to Aramis' crotch as possible. Porthos' hands knead his ass, his mouth goes along his collarbone and Aramis forgets all about making his boyfriend pay. Porthos is redeeming himself already. And bonus: Aramis only has to enjoy and go with the flow.

 

His arm comes around Porthos' neck, bringing him closer when they're kissing. Hungry lips kissing messily, tongues rolling around one another. Aramis moans in Porthos' mouth, opens his wider and Porthos' tongue thrusts so deep inside that Aramis would choke. Yet he likes the aggressivity and the need. He clutches Porthos' hair, shifts on his legs. Grinds against his boyfriend, his cock already hardening.

 

Porthos brushes it casually, a swipe of his fingers and Aramis bucks his hips, digs his fingernails in his boyfriend's shoulder. He shudders at Porthos' finger running down the length of his cock. Too slowly. A tease, really. But it feels so very good. The grazes over the cockhead, all the way to his stomach and down again. The cock getting thicker and harder with every caress. It's too easy, too exciting to notice how perfectly Aramis reacts to his boyfriend.

 

Porthos sucks on Aramis' skin, that spot where his shoulder meets his neck. He dips his head to kiss a nipple. Tiny bites and Aramis hits the back of his head throwing it backwards. The sting is forgotten with an “ouch” and a more thorough suckle. Porthos has a tighter grip on his boyfriend's cock now. Stroking with as much pressure as Aramis needs. The constant groans, because there's no need to be quiet tonight, they turn on Porthos. The closed eyes and parted lips he sees when he glances up do, too.

 

The tiles are slippery when he kneels but he focuses on Aramis' cock instead. Wet, long, enticing. Filling his mouth as he moves his lips along it, Aramis' hand gropping for something to hold on to. With a strangled cry before he bites his lip.

 

“No need to keep it in, cupcake,” Porthos reminds him, kissing the cockhead, feeling it pulse with desire.

 

Aramis looks down at his boyfriend, has never seen anything sexier than Porthos on his knees, turned on, blowing him. He bucks his hips at the quick kiss. At the request that follows.

 

“Be loud.”

 

And with that, Porthos resumes his blowjob. Hot air on excited skin. Tongue swirling around the head, the pre-come mixing with saliva and the very rapid movement of Porthos' mouth which makes Aramis feel so hot it seems he's going to combust. He does follow his boyfriend's order, shouting out often, feeling that he's in a precarious position where he could lose his balance at any time. Porthos' mouth is making his muscles and his brain give up.

 

Teasing tongue, suckling lips enjoying Aramis' cock as if he were a lollilop and the way Porthos stares up at Aramis is indecent. Arousing and dirty. Aramis is transfixed by Porthos' mouth swallowing his dick. The way his lips glisten around it, stretch and how Porthos moves. His fingers gripping Aramis' hips.

 

The ones creeping below to his balls. The lush lips kissing the underside of the hard cock, hinting for his balls, too. Barely brushing. Only an annoying tickle.

 

How come the roles have been reversed?

 

Aramis whines a little, frustrated. He wishes Porthos could kiss him everywhere at once.

 

“That's not how...you're gonna be forgiven.”

 

“How then?”

 

The tip of Porthos' tongue touches one ball. A second yet enough to make Aramis desire much more. Sensitive skin itches to be touched.

 

“Suck me.”

 

Porthos grunts, half a chuckle and half a growl. He does just what he's been asked. Sucks on a ball; then the other. Strokes Aramis' cock fast. Plays with him. Licking. One ball, the other, up to Aramis' cock and the cockhead again. Aramis feels so hot he shifts on his legs, spreads them wider and gasps as Porthos shuffles closer, chasing after him. He's practically pinning Aramis to the wall, trying to stop him from moving too much.

 

He reaches down to Aramis' balls again. First with his tongue, then with his fingertips. Fondling them, resuming his blowjob. There's been so many curses and shouts in his ears that they're replacing the actual music. What music? Aramis sounds like a porn star and Porthos grips his own cock.

 

Aramis has to push Porthos' head against his cock when the naughty fingertips grope around. Shift from his balls to his ass and he moans. Loudly. Porthos does it again. One finger brushing his boyfriend's hole, hinting at what they both want.

 

“Am I forgiven now?”

 

“.....Almost. Keep doing that,” Aramis urges. “All of that!” he adds hastily after Porthos has given his cock one long last lick and he's back up on his feet. Glistening lips inches from Aramis'. Fingers stills playing with his ass.

 

“I want to kiss you while I fuck you,” Porthos whispers, not letting Aramis breathe in after his gasp. Crushing their mouths together. There's so much of Aramis on his tongue already and nails scrape his shoulder when Porthos pushes a finger inside of his boyfriend.

 

“Forgiven?” he taunts again.

 

“Make me come and you'll be.”

 

“Like that?”

 

“For a start.”

 

Aramis chokes on his groan, his body on fire to have Porthos moving inside of him, even as slowly as he is right now. One lone finger in and out, soothing his hole every so often. Another firm fist jerking his cock and Aramis holds on to Porthos' strong arm. Holds on because his knees buckle and Porthos is so careful with his ass, so excruciatingly attentive yet Aramis adores it. The slow burn and how his cock has been so attended to already.

 

Porthos' kisses, his wet palm over his aroused cock and his fingers opening his ass. All that it encompasses for the rest of their night. A skilled man, Porthos is and Aramis knows he doesn't have to want to make this one last forever because they still have hours to entertain themselves.

 

“I'm gonna....,” he warns but after all, they're naked in the shower already. It's hardly necessary.

 

Except Porthos' fingers still for the second he breaks their kiss to drop to his knees again. His mouth isn't even completely on Aramis' cock that he's coming. With a drawl, hot come down Porthos' throat, his fingers moving again, working on Aramis.

 

He licks the cock completely, as clean as it was before he even started his work. Aramis is speechless, moaning because of the fingers in his ass. His chest rises and falls quickly and his eyelids flutter rapidly. Then Porthos is all he can see. Dark eyes. Aroused.

 

“Forgiven?”

 

“Fuck yeah.”

 

Aramis tastes come in Porthos' kiss, licks in his boyfriend's mouth, hungry for more. He's the one thrusting his tongue as far down Porthos' throat as he can now. Clutching hair because he's still being fucked and it's making him hot. Dirty.

 

And he has an idea. It's making him flushed, even amid his orgasm. He wants it so much so fast so suddenly he can't breathe around the idea.

 

“Although....”

 

“Yes?” Porthos kisses along Aramis' beard, brushes one hand over his stomach. Feels the shivers.

 

“I want you to fuck me, too. Really. With your dick.”

 

“I was planning on it, cupcake.” Porthos is so hard from Aramis' wonderful responses he needs to get a better taste of that ass.

 

“I want you to use those handcuffs we only used that one time.”

 

So long ago they'd almost forgotten they had them. They're lucky Mati wasn't with them while they were looking for his socks. They need a better hiding place.

 

Porthos' cock hardens impossibly more at the thought. Aramis' tongue licks his bottom lip.

 

“You want to be the one begging instead?”

 

“Are you opposed to the idea?” Aramis worries suddenly. “Did you want something else? I know what I said but....”

 

“Nope, chill, 'mis. That's fine. I like it. Using you.”

 

“Yeah. Me, too.”

 

It has a nice ring to it. Porthos loves Aramis surrendering to him. He crushes Aramis in his arms. Hot, mad kiss, arms wrapping around each other.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Wrapped in a towel, wet hair curling as it slowly dries, Aramis is kissing Porthos. Moaning at the fingers massaging his neck, grabbing the skin. Pushing their mouths together. Aramis' hands grop Porthos' naked chest, his towel having dropped to his waist when they stumbled on the bed.

 

Aramis straddles his boyfriend, clutching hot drying skin, letting fingertips graze Porthos' muscles. The sensitive skin of his back, of his lower stomach. He's still wet from their shower, trying to breathe correctly, still very much aroused by all the kisses and the touching. He can't get enough of Porthos' palms roaming his back. Making the towel slowly fall off Aramis until it slides down his arms and puddles on the bed. Leaving a pretty, sexy, naked Aramis flushed to Porthos' chest.

 

Legs wrapped around Porthos' waist, so completely sitting on his lap. Soft cock grazing Porthos' very hard one and it's a long dance made of tiny moves which would coax Aramis into another erection. It will. He's not sated and Porthos is clutching his ass, grinding against him. Groaning in his mouth.

 

Porthos' tongue sweeps in his boyfriend's mouth before he gasps at the pressure on his crotch, Aramis rocking. Grasping Porthos' shoulders and having no trouble pushing him backwards so Aramis ends up on top of him. Porthos lies on the bed, loses no time losing his towel. As fast as he can so Aramis is once again sprawled on him and their cocks touch once more. Porthos burries his hands in his boyfriend's damp hair, kissing away the grin and the moans.

 

He lets Aramis move on his own, naughty fingers gliding over his chest, resting on his nipples. They tease and they pinch and Porthos jerks his hips up. Gasps again because it's too much foreplay and Aramis is doing everything right and after the shower and the blowjob and the excitement, Porthos is a bit done with going slow. Even though he loves it. The ache in his body, under the tingling skin.

 

Aramis looks up wickedly, a tinkle in his eyes, before he rolls his hips so leisurely Porthos has to throw his head back. Even Aramis himself moans and does it again. There's fire running through his veins once more. Then he's crushed under Porthos' weight who has rolled them around. Quickly. No losing time. And Aramis raises his hips to reach Porthos' crotch. It's not as pleasurable or satisfying in this position especially since Porthos doesn't indulge him.

 

So Aramis would complain.

 

Except Porthos hooks his boyfriend's leg on his hip, sinks so completely on him that their cocks rub together quite forcefully.

 

Nothing to complain about.

 

Porthos nips at Aramis' lip, kisses him with an open mouth and a tongue diving in the other's mouth. Strong fingers dig into Aramis' thigh, keeping him where he is. _His_ fingers curl around Porthos' neck. He also kneads the skin of his boyfriend's ass, urging him to speed up the rhythm.

 

“I thought you wanted _me_ in charge,” Porthos whispers, lips gliding on Aramis' cheek to go nibble on his ear.

 

They kiss down to his neck. Such tender skin that Aramis shivers. Raises his hips and meets a hard cock against his own, hardening, too. He cant't get enough of Porthos. He can also only nod and groan to reply.

 

“Yes or no?” Porthos asks again, not satisfied, not letting Aramis grow silent.

 

“Yes!” Aramis chokes and Porthos' lips are on his own again.

 

Brushing. Not engaging in a full kiss. Aramis can't even fight the firm grip on his wrist which drags his hand away from his boyfriend's ass. Porthos strains to hold Aramis' hand high above his head. He doesn't let go.

 

“What else do you want?”

 

It's a sultry rasp and Aramis swallows. Gets lost in the lust shining in Porthos' eyes and his words. All the desire and passion and even though Aramis adores built-up anticipation, he also needs to be fucked. Not only by Porthos' mouth. He needs Porthos to fuck him in every way he can. The possibilities are making him breathless.

 

“Cupcake?”

 

Porthos won't take moans for an answer. He's aching to touch Aramis from the inside out but he also gets off on his boyfriend's voice and he won't be satisfied until Aramis talks.

 

“You're....you decide. I just want you to....fuck me. Hard. I want to feel all of you, Porthos.” Aramis presses on Porthos' ass with his foot, making their cocks graze. Porthos kisses him. “....All of you....in me and on top of me. I want to....feel so much of you that I can't.....move anymore.”

 

“I can do that....”

 

“I hope so.”

 

“....not making you move,” Porthos finishes. Liking the idea.

 

He presses on Aramis' wrist, grabs the second one when Aramis has let go of his boyfriend's neck. Surrendering willingly and there's never been anything hotter. That he trusts Porthos and doesn't fight the grip. Because he so strongly wants it.

 

Even when Porthos fiddles with the nightstand for lube and props, Aramis doesn't move.

 

“You're very good,” Porthos praises.

 

“No need to act so surprised,” Aramis chuckles, watching him warming the metal of the handcuffs. He loves Porthos. The dedication and the care.

 

Aramis' cock twitches at the sight, at what's coming next. His whole body shudders and without thinking, he's grabbed his cock, stroking it.

 

“Not so good after all,” Porthos tuts but his lips tug into a smile. Aramis rolls his eyes, moans at his own ministrations.

 

“You can't blame me. You're there being all...gorgeous and loving and not touching me anymore. Someone's got to do it.”

 

Porthos chortles, shuffles back to his boyfriend to cover Aramis' hand with his own. To stroke his boyfriend on his own when Aramis has redirected his attention to Porthos' dick. Jerking him off. Enough to make Porthos lose track of what he intended to do.

 

It's only because he's craving Aramis' ass more than his hand that he finds the will to stop him. Aramis is _not_ in charge after all. Although everything Porthos is doing is for him. So Porthos manhandles him a little to get him in the handcuffs. Which is not necessary since Aramis is so willing. He simply keens when he's not touching himself anymore and Porthos certainly isn't either.

 

The sting of metal on his wrists recedes quickly. The strain in his arms he'll get used to because he has more distractions for his brains to remain focused on than his hands cuffed in his back.

 

“There. No more touching,” Porthos decides, doing exactly that.

 

Rough skin on Aramis' thighs up to his neck. Grazing hard, excited nipples. Trailing on his stomach, feeling it clench under the fingertips. Aramis bites his lip, closes his eyes for a second.

 

“Good?” Porthos can't help asking.

 

Aramis' chest heaves, his head cushioned on the bed, his legs folded, his mouth open. Looking at Porthos with such incredible trust that it's an immediate reassurance.

 

It makes Porthos feel dirty, to have his boyfriend at his entire disposal like this. To do with him as he pleases without Aramis being able to do anything in return.

 

“I'm fine,” Aramis swears, blinking, itching to move. Unable to. Loving the thrill of it.

 

Porthos' fingers are still playing with one of his nipples. Discovering the toned skin of his body without ever making for his groin and it's suffocating. Especially as Porthos has no remorse touching himself. Coating his cock in lube, staring straight at Aramis before he smirks.

 

“Open up,” he orders, holding fingers at his boyfriend's mouth.

 

Aramis obeys, licking around the fingers, cleaning them thoroughly. His tongue swirls and he sucks and Porthos' crotch grows hotter. He gulps down and Aramis whines when the fingers pull away, glistening with saliva.

 

Then Porthos pulls him up, leaving him with no chance to help himself and Aramis very nearly loses his balance. The strong arm across his stomach prevents him from doing so. The one making him suck in a breath. The one pressing on his skin, guiding him. Before Aramis does sink on the bed. His head on the pillow and his ass in the air. A careful palm over the smooth skin.

 

Porthos watches the trapped fingers curl when he brushes his with them. For a few seconds and they're traveling down to probe Aramis' ass. A slow massage on his hole. Teasing and so good that Aramis moans in the pillow. Tries to shift to look at Porthos who will never let him. He braces himself over his boyfriend, lying a little over him.

 

“You're getting what you wanted, cupcake,” he explains. “Me on top of you. And I could crush you and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it.”

 

Aramis has to admit that it's electrifying. To be at Porthos' mercy. To dread the outcome although there is not a thing to be afraid of. It's a sweet form of violence in the bedroom that Aramis wouldn't mind.

 

Porthos' fingers return to Aramis' ass as they did in the shower earlier. Rubbing inside more smoothly and Aramis cries out at the third one his boyfriend adds. Pushing inside, curling. Porthos' tongue licks Aramis' neck. His teeth bite lightly and he feels the shudder running in Aramis' body.

 

He holds on to Aramis' hip, keeping him there against him. Sweaty, wet skin as Aramis thrashes a bit under the attention and would slide back on the mattress if it weren't for Porthos' strength.

 

“You think you're ready?”

 

Porthos brushes his thumb over Aramis' hole. Does it a second and a third time. Rubbing, spreading lube. Just barely grazing his boyfriend's balls. The slightest caress which makes Aramis groan and bury his head in the pillow.

 

He wishes Porthos could touch him everywhere. Or would at least pay attention to his cock. Aramis can't even grind against the bed in this position and the complete lack of friction is a torture. He needs attention all over. Not just in his ass, even if it feels fantastic and he cries out when Porthos pushes his fingers inside with more insistance.

 

“I'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna come again,” Porthos decides, his lips on Aramis' ear. “I'm gonna fuck you and you....you're gonna be loud.”

 

The tip of Porthos' tongue rests on his ear. Both his hands grasp his hips now, pulling on his ass and then the tip of Porthos' cock is teasing at his hole. Never pushing in completely. Moving up and down, ridiculous tiny thrusts which are so great though that Aramis does shout. From the excruciating wait and how his ass slowly stretches around Porthos. A delicious torment.

 

Porthos's fingernails dig in Aramis' skin when he's fully inside him. From the pleasure and to keep Aramis in that great position. It makes him feel Porthos everywhere. In and around the burning sensation coiling in Aramis' stomach. Porthos is so strong. Grunting behind him and it drives Aramis higher in his esctasy.

 

Porthos' thrusts pick up speed fast and each one drives Aramis' head deeper onto the bed. Porthos is so long and big and it hurts and yet Aramis can't get enough of it. He gets off on how his breath itches and how Porthos manages to find great new angles everytime he so much as shift on his knees.

 

Aramis' ass clashes against his boyfriend's thighs whenever he thrusts in him, his cock caressing hot flesh. Balancing Aramis' weight with one hand, Porthos manages to get a grip on the handcuffed wrists and he does wonder if the position is uncomfortable. Judging from Aramis' noises, even if it is, it's not a problem. Porthos' very own porn star. He's loving it.

 

He also loves the feeling of his boyfriend's ass, how it streches for him. How soft it is when his thrusts become less agitated and perhaps more complete. That he takes his time to feel more and that Aramis gargles amid his moans and everything that he needs.

 

Porthos pulls out totally, the cockhead resting against Aramis' swollen hole. Waiting. There's pre-come and lube and Porthos wishes Aramis could see it all.

 

“Tell me,” Aramis prompts when he's being told just that.

 

“You're all red from me, 'mis. How do you think you look?”

 

Aramis chokes on his groan. Wiggles to get Porthos moving once again.

 

“What do you think is going to happen next, uh?”

 

Aramis can't wrap his head around any possible answer he could give. He just wants Porthos to fuck him again. Until he can't see straight and he can't breathe and he can't feel anything in his body but his hot boyfriend.

 

“Come on, cupcake,” Porhtos taunts, playing with Aramis' hole, aching to fuck him again yet knowing the torture is worth-enduring. “You can do better than that. Unless you've had enough....”

 

“Fuck you!”

 

Porthos snorts, thrusts inside of his boyfriend's ass, gets rewarded with a long, delectable moan and then stops moving. Aramis does enjoy this, too.

 

“We can't stop it there, can we? You're so pretty,” Porthos compliments, dragging a sweaty palm over the expanse of Aramis' back. Playing with the damp curls and trailing a finger from his shoulders to the metal of the handcuffs.

 

“I want you....to fuck me. Again. So hard I'll scream. And I want you to come in my ass.”

 

“And then you'll be dripping and you'll be all mine.”

 

“Please,” Aramis keens. Wiggles his ass, wishes he could move and do something about the terrible ache in his cock. It hurts and he wants to come again.

 

“Please what?”

 

Ragged breathing interrupts Porthos' words. He smoothes Aramis' lower back, lets him seek out fingers to hold on to. Porthos also lowers him to the mattress so he's on all four again. Somewhat. Before Aramis drops his head again. Gasps.

 

“Don't stop....moving. Get that cock in my ass and go hard.”

 

Porthos chuckles in spite of himself. At Aramis' eagerness and desperation. So he does exactly what he's been asked. Still holding on to handcuffed wrists. Aramis deserves it all. How he drives into his ass as much as he can, hearing skin sticking together along with Aramis' cursing.

 

Aramis has never felt so trapped because there's literally no way he can escape. From the handcuffs, from Porthos' hold on him, from his cock. From his position on the bed. Nowhere to go and so much pleasure that he could stay like this for hours. With Porthos working on his ass.

 

If only he wasn't avoiding stroking Aramis' cock on purpose. Aramis can conjure images of Porthos doing so in his mind, with the memories from the blowjob in the shower. It's not as nice as the actual sensation but it's working.

 

He moans louder, grinds back in rhythm with Porthos' thursts. Shallower, as strong as ever and he knocks the breath out of Aramis when he finally comes, half collapsing on his boyfriend. He's still thrusting to ride out his orgasm, digging his nails in Aramis' skin and when he pulls out completely, he comments in between heavy breathing on what he sees.

 

The come dripping off Aramis' ass along his inner thigh now that he's been gently laid down on his side and that Porthos is facing him.

 

“I shouldn't be the only one sucking on come tonight, what do you think?”

 

One finger trails along that very thigh, gathering come and Aramis' eyes grow wide with exacerbated desire. It sticks to Porthos' fingers. It's dirty and they're on Aramis' lips, prompting him to open them. To get a taste of Porthos. Which he does and Porthos is all over him. In his ass, in his mouth. Everywhere on his skin.

 

Aramis strains against the restraints, desperate for more attention. For the magnificent view he has of Porthos. Naked and sweaty and spent. Sprawled next to him. Reaching to uncuff Aramis who loses no time getting his own hand on his cock. Finally.

 

After what seems like forever. One simple touch and he could come.

 

“Jerk yourself off, cupcake.”

 

Aramis doesn't care if it's an order or a request. Or an invitation. He wouldn't have waited for it. His wrists are sore but the reason why they are is pleasant. It's been making his heart beat faster and under Porthos' close scrutiny, with his sweet lips sucking on his neck, Aramis comes with a drawl. And then, only then, does Porthos' hand join his on his cock. To guide him through the rest of his orgasm.

 

Aramis can barely breathe and he's on cloud nine and his shoulders hurt, he realizes when he's cuddling with Porthos. His amazing boyfriend. So hot, so skilled, sex on legs really and they should never leave the bedroom when it's just the two of them.

 

“Geez, I'm exhausted,” Porthos breathes out, cradling Aramis closer. “If how it ends when I wear that new jersey you got me, then I think I'm gonna wear it every day from now on.”

 

“Eww.”

 

Aramis wrinkles his nose, both from the disgust of seeing that despiscable team logo in his home all the days of his life and from the disgust of such clothes never being washed if Porthos were to wear it all the time.

 

He sits up to collect a discarded towel and rub his thigh. There's another shower with their names on it in the near future. Or a relaxing bath. That'd be nice.

 

Porthos sits up, too, crowding Aramis' space, his hand on the small of his back. Gentle after the passion.

 

“You do like it, do you? Being tied up?”

 

“Yes,” Aramis admits. He does. It turns him on. He turns his head toward Porthos, catches the reverent gaze. “I like....feeling like I'm powerless but...also knowing I'm not. Because you wouldn't do anything I wouldn't be comfortable with and I don't know. It makes me love you more. To feel like I'm respected and....yeah.”

 

“You are. And if you're happy then that's what matters. I kinda like being rough.”

 

“And you do it well. You're like, the best man I've ever had sex with. Because it's not just about you. And I feel protected enough telling you what I do enjoy.”

 

“Thanks, cupcake.”

 

Aramis giggles, still high from his second orgasm, floating in happiness yet serious in what he says. It's an adorable sound and Porthos ruffles his hair, wraps his arm across Aramis' stomach to keep him close. Kisses his shoulder softly and rests his chin there. Lets his heartbeat slow down as he holds his boyfriend.

 


End file.
